Tyler just stares at the reply for a little while. The length of time it took for Steven to reply has cooled his rising temper, and he can be a bit more rational again.

We're Changelings. Of everyone here, we're the ones who should understand best all the rules of secrecy that we're forced into - not even just as Imports, as fucking Rockets. How is what we're doing here any different than being part of a freehold back home? It feels like that hasn't occured to you yet - you're just adopting the people that you like, for being like Charley, and shunning the ones who don't because they're somehow not up to this unknowable set of personal standards.

You can't do that. We're not friends. We're not Charley. And just because I'm another Changeling, doesn't mean I'm some junior version of you and yours that needs protecting against the big bad world like I don't know that. I bet she did too, but hell if I know if you respected that from her either.

It honestly doesn't matter that we're both Changelings. People get traumatised and hurt and have sordid histories all the same. And right now, we're human. We're people. And you need to learn to actually treat me - and Carly, and whoever else you're projecting this shit onto, like them. Like an actual person, independent of your grandiose delusions of needing protecting and somehow relying on you, who'll be there at your beck and call for every negative thought that needs spewing out of you.



He sighs, sitting back and staring at his phone for a while. He's not angry. He's not - and that actually surprises him. He's just. Tired.

Otherwise, I can't trust you.